


Dinner Night

by MayumiSato



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluffy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27329620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayumiSato/pseuds/MayumiSato
Summary: Arthur and Alfred get to know each other’s parents after a year together and have to deal with a lot of awkwardness.Made for the 2020.1 usukustwiceperyear event!
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Dinner Night

The landscape had cold mountains, with a thin layer of snow on its stony ground. Near its summit, there was a lonely castle, with an abandoned appearance, as if no one had lived there for several years. Nothing else was around it. Civilization was miles away. 

“Is this your parents' house?” Alfred asked Arthur, looking out the car window.

They were slowly climbing the mountain in a black vehicle, built in the 1950s. Arthur's driver was extremely focused on staying on the road, despite the fog and darkness of the night. Even so, the old car couldn’t stop shaking.

Urgh, why couldn't Arthur have chosen a more modern car to make that trip? He was such a hipster, with that taste for old stuff. 

“Yes, this is their castle,” Arthur corrected him with a small proud smile, looking at the castle with a nostalgic air. “My family has lived in this place for centuries.”

“I believe it,” Alfred replied in a deadpan voice. That castle certainly seemed to exist for centuries. It was more a caricature of a haunted castle that you would see in a 90s horror game than a Buckingham Palace-style castle. “Did your parents ever think about renovating it or something? This place looks doomed, dude.”

" _Doomed_?” Arthur repeated in an offended tone. Oh, shit. Wrong choice of words! Wrong choice of words! “For your information, this appearance is the result of centuries of history! The existence of this castle is way longer than your brief existence of 28 years, and it is something inimitable for most contemporary architectural structures ....!”

Arthur kept talking, but at that point, Alfred stopped listening to what he was saying and just rested his cheek in one hand, silently admiring how attractive Arthur was when he was pissed.

* * *

They were on a typical American suburban street, with houses that had a front yard with green grass neatly trimmed, all very similar to each other. It was dinner time and most families were in their homes. Light and the lively sounds of chatting came from the windows on the street. 

This was a frightening scenario, in Arthur's opinion, who was looking at that quiet suburban street as anxiously as anyone else would be being led to the edge of a cliff. He couldn't stop moving his legs and squeezing his hands while Alfred drove his rented car.

Those identical houses, that deceptive atmosphere of happiness and friendliness, those flat and insipid front yards ... Arthur almost had goosebumps looking at them.

He contained himself properly and said nothing when they arrived on that street. It would be rude to point out that the neighborhood in which Alfred had grown up had a sinister air to it. It was only when Alfred finally stopped the car in front of one of the houses and said a cheerful "We are here!", that Arthur could no longer stay quiet. He finally broke his anxious silence, took hold of Alfred's arm, and admitted to him, in a whisper,

“Alfred, I’m scared.”

Alfred, being a bastard, ended up snorting on hearing that.

“What's so funny to you?” Arthur questioned, duly offended by that reaction.

“Artie, it’s hilarious to me that you, of all people, are afraid of my parents!” Alfred had the audacity to laugh more and hold Arthur's hands. “They are just a typical middle-aged couple who enjoy watching television and eating good food.”

“Dear lord, these interests are so general that it is impossible to predict any aspect of them as individuals,” Arthur realized with horror, his eyes a little wider. 

“Haha! You don't have to worry that much! My parents won't eat your head if they don't like you!”

“I’m more concerned about the possibility that they will put a stake in my heart.”

“Literally or metaphorically?” Alfred smirked.

“Both,” Arthur grunted. He was really stressed.

“You'll be fine!” Alfred replied, bringing Arthur's hands briefly to his lips. “I promise my parents don't have stakes laying around! My father hasn't touched his carpentry stuff in years! Also, they will be so happy to see me again, after these two years I spent in the UK, that they won’t even pay much attention to you!”

“Do you really think so?” Arthur asked, hopeful.

Alfred took a better look at him, seeming to examine his long cloak and nineteenth-century waistcoat with particular concern.

“… Maybe they will notice you a bit, but everything will be fine! I promise!” Alfred continued to smile, but it seemed a little forced this time.

That wasn’t a good sign, Arthur guessed.

* * *

The castle had a strong musty smell and was badly lit by chandeliers with candles, which made it gloomy and mysterious-looking. It looked like one of those places that characters from a horror movie would visit thinking that it was abandoned, before making the terrible discovery that it wasn't. However, in Alfred's case, he knew very well who lived in that decrepit place and he was more than eager to see them.

“Father. Mother.” Arthur said to the empty hall, his voice echoing through the walls. “I returned.”

Before long, two figures appeared in the shadows at the top of the stairs. Alfred couldn't see them entirely. His vision in the dark was still not as good as Arthur's. All he noticed at first was that they looked tall, very thin, and that they had excellent posture.

“My descendant,” said a deep male voice. “We received your letter. We’ve been expecting you.”

“Letter?” Alfred whispered to Arthur, frowning. “What the hell. Did you send a letter? No wonder it took you so long to schedule this visit! Why couldn't you call them, send a message, send an email ...?”

Arthur silenced him with an ‘Shh!’ and a glare, before turning back to the mysterious figures at the top of the stairs, with his arms crossed behind his back.

“Is this the young man you mentioned in your letter?” asked a melodic female voice.

Arthur swallowed and nodded quickly. There was a slight layer of anxiety in his manners. Should Alfred be concerned ...?

“Very well, let me take a better look at him.” Arthur's mother came down the stairs, where it was a bit brighter, consequently, allowing Alfred to see her better too.

She was very young, at least in appearance. She didn't look older than Arthur, actually. Her skin didn’t have any lines caused by aging and her voluminous hair had a deep, dark brown color. Arthur's father came right behind her. He looked like a ten years older version of Arthur, except that he had a beard, and Arthur could never grow one. Both parents were wearing traditional and formal clothes that seemed appropriate for a ball. It was the first time that Arthur, wearing an actual cape, seemed to stick out less than Alfred with his hoodie and jeans.

“He looks delicious,” Mrs. Kirkland observed, smiling, and running her hand over Alfred's face and letting her fingers touch his neck very lightly. “Young and strong ... I can see how he got your attention.”

Well, it was certainly a little embarrassing to hear that from your mother-in-law, but Alfred barely had time to dwell on his discomfort before the boyfriend interfered.

“Mum!” Arthur exclaimed, mortified, walking in front of Alfred as if shielding him. “It’s not appropriate to talk about Alfred like that! He's not just a piece of meat! I already said that I’m serious about him!”

 _You are?_ , Alfred thought, smiling to himself. Good to know! Arthur was somewhat reserved, especially when it came to feelings, and he hadn’t yet discussed with Alfred about his intentions for their relationship in the long-run. 

Mrs. Kirkland covered her mouth, laughing gracefully.

“Oh, sorry, my dear. Forgive your old mother. We haven't had visitors like Alfred in a long time.”

“Yes, forgive your mother. She hasn't had dinner yet because we were waiting for you,” Mr. Kirkland said, patting Arthur's shoulder as if asking for his understanding.

“It’s fine,” Arthur said more calmly, politely removing his father's hand from his shoulder. “I just want you to treat Alfred with all due respect.”

“Hey, Artie. Relax.” Alfred thought it necessary to say to lighten the mood. He put his arm around his boyfriend's tense shoulders. “I don't mind the compliment. I really am delicious! Haha!”

Everyone laughed, except Arthur, who put his hand on his forehead in exasperation, much tenser about the situation than he needed to be.

* * *

The woman who answered the door appeared to be in her fifties and looked very much like Alfred. Despite being much shorter than him, she had Alfred's blond hair, with some gray hair added to it, and his very light blue eyes. She smiled when she saw that her son had arrived and hugged him tightly, looking especially small now that she needed to stand on her feet to reach his shoulders.

“Alfred, my dear! I missed you so much!”

Alfred hugged his mother back, taking her off the floor with ease and commenting playfully that she was too light and that she had to eat more.

When he put her back down, she finally noticed Arthur's presence and her attitude suddenly became much more reserved and cold.

“You must be Arthur Kirkland,” she said stiffly. Her mouth in a perfectly straight line. “Your clothes are ... interesting.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Jones,” Arthur replied, forcing a smile.

None of them took the initiative to shake hands with each other. Mrs. Jones' displeasure was obvious. She was staring at Arthur with such intensity that her eyes almost looked like they were releasing sparks.

“Where's dad?” Alfred smiled and put his arm around Arthur's shoulders. If it were someone else, Arthur would think he was coming to his rescue, but being Alfred, it was more likely that he wasn’t even understanding what was happening.

Mrs. Jones took a deep breath, seeming to force herself to endure the situation for Alfred. The power of the influence of an only child couldn’t be underestimated.

“He is inside. I'll let you know that you're here,” she replied and was about to turn around to enter the house when Alfred stopped her, holding her arm.

“Mom, you have to invite us in, remember?”

“Ah, right.” She made a face as if she had bitten a lemon, before extending her hand and giving them a slightly sour smile. “Please enter.”

With that, Alfred walked through the door without any further concern, but Arthur still felt trapped outside for a moment, before realizing that it was only his anxiety preventing him from moving forward. After a second, he mustered his courage and followed Alfred.

* * *

The Kirklands had a huge dining room, with a table that could serve dozens of guests at once. Strangely, each member of the family sat at one end of the table, leaving a huge amount of space left between them. Alfred was the only one who had the idea to sit next to Arthur and the Kirkland family looked stunned when he did this.

"Oh! We can also sit that way!”, they exclaimed, as if it was an impressive revelation, and they imitated Alfred, sitting on Arthur’s side too.

From what they said, they had always sat the other way before, out of sheer habit, not realizing it would be better if they sat closer to each other.

They seemed so excited about this new position at the table that Alfred chose not to say that the seating arrangement was still a little awkward since now they were all in a horizontal line of sorts and that, ideally, the Kirklands should have sat in front of them.

The butler came to serve dinner. He was a pale, middle-aged man, dressed in a suit, carrying a tray with golden goblets filled with red liquid.

The smell that came from those goblets was just fantastic. It was a smell with sweet and bitter nuances at the same time, that made Alfred start salivating. 

"This is a 30 years aged drink." Mr. Kirkland commented with some pride. “We wanted to provide something remarkable for you, as the first guest we have had in a long time.”

“Thank you! Haha!” Alfred scratched his cheek, slightly embarrassed. It had been very thoughtful of the Kirklands to try to get the best harvest possible for him and he didn't know how to thank them for being so kind. It was particularly difficult to think about it when Arthur was staring at him, seeming to pay maximum attention to each of his reactions.

He decided to take some of his drink to gain more courage.

“So, Jones, what is your family occupation?” asked Mrs. Kirkland, holding her glass in front of her eyes.

“Uh ... My mom is a housewife. My father is an accountant.”

“Oh, so you’re an accountant,” she concluded incorrectly. “It's a respectable job.”

“No, actually, I'm a software developer.”

The Kirklands exchanged confused looks and then looked at their son as if asking for his help.

“He works with technological things,” Arthur explained in simple terms. The Kirklands looked relieved.

“Ah, yes, technologies. I heard about them,” Mr. Kirkland said with a much more confident attitude. “Cars, cameras, radio ... Do you work with them?”

As if he were talking to his great-grandfather, Alfred also simplified things for his in-laws,

“Haha, yeah, sort of!”

“What are your thoughts on the monarchy?” Mrs. Kirkland asked next.

Because that is the logical question to ask your son’s boyfriend right after ‘What is your family's occupation?’.

“That it is outdated?” Alfred risked answering. Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland both gasped in horror. Damn, he had given the wrong answer.

“He's American.” Arthur intervened. For some reason, that comment comforted Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland. They seemed more relaxed and kept saying to each other, "true, true, he is American" in a tone that suggested ‘and that explains what he said’.

Alfred discreetly held Arthur's hand under the table and squeezed it gently to thank him for his help. Arthur smiled discreetly, looking very happy, before taking a sip from his drink to cover it up. He was so shy.

* * *

The Jones' table was full of food, but there was nothing that Arthur could eat there.

“My son informed me of your ... dietary restrictions, Kirkland,” Mrs. Jones said coldly, pulling the chair for her son to sit beside her. “Unfortunately, I had already bought all the ingredients for this dinner, so I couldn't provide anything especially for you. Feel free to eat our food, however.”

It was a provocation. Basically a message of ‘Adapt or be excluded’. Unfortunately, Arthur would have to be excluded. As Mrs. Jones had said, indeed he had ‘dietary restrictions’. If he ate that food, he would get terribly ill.

“If that's the case, I'm not going to eat as well,” Alfred informed to everyone's surprise, with a casual and carefree smile. “We’re not here for the food, really. Artie and I can have dinner together after we leave.”

Arthur looked at his boyfriend, not knowing whether he had purposely interfered or not. Usually, Alfred wasn’t good at reading the atmosphere, and so Arthur was unsure if he realized what was going on. In one way or another, he was giving a lot of help in diffusing the situation.

It wasn't like Alfred was missing out much on skipping dinner either. Arthur had a very limited diet, so it wasn't like he could judge what others were eating, but as far as he knew a lemon jelly stuffed with cheese, mayonnaise and seafood didn't sound appetizing at all.

Alfred sat next to Mrs. Jones and in front of Arthur, smiling encouragingly at him.

Mr. Jones, who sat next to Arthur, just nodded to greet him and counted it as an introduction. Arthur wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and considered him a man of few words. He at least seemed to concentrate only on eating his dinner, unlike Mrs. Jones, whose eyes were throwing daggers in Arthur's direction.

The meal followed in strained silence until Mrs. Jones asked her son the first question:

“So, Alfie, we talked about this before, but why did you even get into a relationship with this ... this ... person?”

Urgh.

“Haha, you know how it is, mom.” Alfred laughed with some embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was a Friday night and I went to a bar. He approached me, we talked and I was looking to try something different…”

“Very different,” she said with a brief and caustic chuckle. 

“We ended up going a little too far, as you already know, and Artie wanted to take responsibility and stay with me,” Alfred explained affectionately, extending his hand to Arthur who was shy at first, before accepting it.

He would have blushed if he could. Why was Alfred talking like a maiden who had been deflowered? Dear lord… 

Mrs. Jones quickly helped herself to a glass of champagne on the table. She took the entire thing in one gulp and took another glass right after. Mr. Jones remained quiet, eating his food, without making eye contact with the other people at the table.

“Was it that simple?” Mrs. Jones asked in a voice with restrained anger. “You met a guy one night, and now you are part of this... community?”

Oh god. If Arthur could, he would be drinking too. Clearly, he was in the middle of a family argument.

“Mom, I'm happy like this!” Alfred smiled, putting his arm around his mother's tense shoulders, seeming to try to comfort her. “I like Artie! I’m glad to be who I am now!”

Those words were the last straw for her.

“Don't be so carefree about it! It’s not that simple! How can I explain to the neighbors that MY son is now a vampire?!” Mrs. Jones untangled herself from Alfred, exasperated, and drunk.

There it was. Arthur didn't think she would be that straightforward, but he knew that his vampirism was a problem for her from the beginning. Urgh, he wished he could bite Mr. Jones to get some of the alcohol in his blood. Too bad that it would make things so much worse.

“Mom …” Alfred sighed.

“And you!” she pointed her finger at Arthur. ”Don't stay there, looking all bored! Because of you, my son is now a creature of the night!”

“Mom, don't speak to Arthur like that!” Alfred confronted Mrs. Jones, looking irritated for the first time since they arrived. “I would already be a creature of the night, even without him! I'm a programmer, after all! Besides, I hate garlic! I have liked goth guys since sixth grade! Even if it wasn’t him, I would probably end up going out with another vampire eventually!”

A huge fight broke out between Alfred and Mrs. Jones. Arthur wished he could hide under the table. In one hundred and eighty years of existence, he had never found himself in such an uncomfortable position.

Humans were so complicated. Among vampires, such a disagreement would have been resolved with a simple duel. Instead, humans usually fought using their words, which resulted in much deeper and hard-to-heal wounds. 

What a mess. If Alfred had been another guy, Arthur would have just erased his memory, turned into a bat, and flown into the night.

Since it was Alfred, he could take the embarrassment of that situation. Alfred was different. He was special. That year they had spent together was probably the most significant year in Arthur's life.

For Arthur, time was different than it was from humans. He blinked and ten years passed by. What did a day mean for someone who had centuries to live? However, after he met Alfred, that changed.

Alfred was cheerful, impulsive, and had completely different tastes and perspectives than Arthur. He brought an invigorating breeze to the stagnant air in Arthur’s life. Alfred, also, truly liked him and always talked about everything he wanted to experience with Arthur with infectious enthusiasm. Now, Arthur had expectations for his future, and waiting for something always slows down time. As the days passed more slowly, Arthur could appreciate its details more.

In short, Arthur wasn't going to waste what he and Alfred had just because human discussions were embarrassing and exhausting. He just had to be a little patient and wait.

* * *

“I was the one who asked Arthur to bite me when we were both in bed. I was curious about how it felt to feed a vampire, you know? The problem is that when Arthur came to bite me ... Ah, I need to explain something first. I live in an apartment in front of an alley with stray cats that are always fighting. So, at that time, when he went to bite me, I heard a cat meowing so loudly that I thought it was a person screaming! I ended up, you know, turning my neck at the wrong time, to see what the hell that was, and Arthur bit an artery that he shouldn't have. Blood gushed _everywhere_. Arthur freaked out. He healed the wound with the magical saliva you guys have, but I had lost too much blood already. My head was spinning, but I vaguely remember him explaining to me that he wanted to turn me so I would survive. I nodded and, when I woke up the next day, boom, I had turned into a vampire. Arthur said he was going to take responsibility for me and you know how it goes. I wouldn’t reject a guy like Arthur saying that he would take responsibility for me! Haha! At first, we would just be vampire buddies, but the attraction between us was undeniable and we ended up becoming a couple.”

Arthur had his face sunk in his hands, seeming to feel his head weigh a hundred pounds.

“Why did you have to tell this story to my parents?” he growled at length. “And in so much detail as well …”

“They were the ones who asked about it!” Alfred defended himself with a shameless smile.

Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland, in fact, looked perfectly fine with the story. They were entertained, watching Alfred with interest as they drank their portions of blood. 

“Don’t stress yourself over it, my son,” said Mrs. Kirkland, with a sweet and understanding smile. “Turning humans during sexual intercourse is a very common thing for us. Your father also bit me after a wild night of…”

“I don't want to hear that!” Arthur complained, hitting the table with both hands and a mixture of indignation and horror. “How shameful!”

“I have a puritan son,” Mr. Kirkland lamented in mild disapproval, shaking his head.

“I think he is a prude because he grew up during the Victorian period,” Mrs. Kirkland argued. “If he had spent his formative years in the Renaissance, he would have turned out to be quite different.”

That subject aroused Alfred's curiosity. He knew that Arthur's parents were very old and he had some doubts about what it was like to live for so long. He just hadn't asked about it before because it seemed kind of rude to ask someone, ‘So, you're really old, huh?’, and he couldn't think of another way to start that topic.

“If you don't mind, can I ask a question?” he requested charmingly to his in-laws.

“Proceed,” Mr. Kirkland authorized, with a wave of his hand.

Arthur squinted his eyes and gave Alfred his typical ‘What-the-hell-are-you-going-to-say?’ glare, which Alfred easily ignored every time.

“I thought that in your days in which being gay was like a crime, but you don't seem bothered that your son is dating another man. Why is that?” Alfred asked, perfectly nonchalant.

“In our day?” Mr. Kirkland smiled, amused by the question. “What days? Because when I was a young man, traveling through Greece while Homer told his tales, it was perfectly acceptable for two men to love each other. In fact, loving a man could be considered more respectable than loving a woman. That was back then, of course.”

“In the Renaissance, which was when I was transformed, there were several famous artists who preferred the same sex,” added Mrs. Kirkland. “My painting teacher had an affair with all his students, except for me, who was the only woman in the class.”

“Wow!” Alfred exclaimed fascinated. This was a historical perspective that he had never heard before! The way he learned history in school made it seem like nobody could be gay before the 20 century. 

“Human moral concepts change from time to time. We don't stick to them,” Mr. Kirkland explained, finishing his drink. “How could we judge our own son for loving other men? Frankly, humans create the strangest social conventions to separate themselves from each other.”

Alfred nodded, deeply intrigued by that perspective. He had several other questions that he would like to ask the Kirklands. 

Then, Arthur rested his head on his shoulder. It was rare for him to do that. He wasn’t keen on public displays of affection overall. Alfred felt his heart race.

“I can also tell you stories from the past if you like them so much …” Arthur murmured with some shyness.

Oh shit. He was too adorable.

The Kirklands smiled at them in a way that made even Alfred, who usually was pretty shameless, feel a little shy. Thankfully, Arthur wasn't seeing them in that position.

* * *

How long had it been? It felt like hours. However, when Arthur looked at the clock on the kitchen wall, he saw that it had only been forty minutes. Still, forty minutes of discussion was a long time, especially for someone who was just a spectator.

Alfred was not the type to step back easily, even when the person he was having a discussion with was his mother.

When all her arguments failed, she ended up resorting to tears, covering her face and crying, saying that she had never expected her son to become a vampire.

That made Alfred distressed. He had a soft heart and was weak against people crying, even though he drastically disagreed with the reason why the person was crying. He hesitantly tried to approach his mother to comfort her when…

“For god sakes, Barbara, the boy drinks blood from time to time. Who cares about that?” the quiet Mr. Jones suddenly groaned impatiently, surprising everyone. “The food is getting cold. For the love of god, get this scene over with.”

Mrs. Jones was so shocked that she stopped crying, and looked at her husband with wide eyes.

“B-But, dear ...!”

“Hey, you.” He turned to Arthur, whose shoulders tensed up in reaction for having his presence recognized after so long ignored. “Take care of our son, alright? My wife, as you may have seen, worries too much about the boy. You have more experience with this whole, uh, being a vampire thing, so help him with that.”

Arthur nodded quickly, feeling his heart race.

Was that… acceptance? In a way?

“Dad!” Alfred exclaimed happily, clearly moved by that unexpected support. He ran to his father's side and hugged him by the shoulders. “Thanks, dad! I really enjoy being a vampire and…!”

“I know. That’s obvious. Can we finish this dinner now?” Mr. Jones grunted, waving his hand for Alfred to release him. He looked like a kind of shy guy who tried to be grouchy, but he wasn't a bad person. Arthur had a similar temperament, so he could understand it.

Mrs. Jones huffed, looking extremely annoyed at having lost that argument, but ended up resigning herself and eating her dinner again. After a couple of bites, she seemed to have calmed down a little.

“Forgive me for making such a scene in front of you, Kirkland,” she said with some reluctance, but visible sincerity. “I ... I still haven't gotten used to the idea that my son is a vampire. I didn't mean to be so rude to you. It is just difficult for me, as his mother, to know that he is not following the path I had envisioned for his life …”

“I ... I can understand that,” Arthur answered awkwardly, staring at the white tablecloth. “It was also a little sudden for me to acquire a relationship with someone who was a human and knew nothing about my way of living. We had to make many adaptations. A lot has changed in my life since he came around, but …” He felt that Alfred's eyes were on him now and that made him somewhat aware of himself, but he licked his lips and swallowed his nervousness. “ ... he makes me happy and I want to make him happy too. I really like him.”

“Is that so?” Alfred's voice practically revealed the kind of smile on his face, even though Arthur wasn’t looking at him. Arthur would be blushing if he had drunk blood recently. 

“A-As I was saying, I intend to help Alfred to face any obstacles he may find as a vampire, but you are his mother and I can’t have the role you have in his life …” Arthur said, taking a deep breath. “… that's why it is so important to me that you support him.”

There was a brief silence at the table. For a moment, Arthur was afraid that he hadn't said the right thing and perhaps made the situation worse.

“I still find this all very confusing,” Mrs. Jones ended up saying in a softer tone than before. “Still, you're right. In the end, my son needs my support. I’m his mother, after all. I ... I'm willing to accept that you're a vampire now, Alfred. I don't like it very much, but I will accept it.

It was a start, Arthur thought with relief, and when he looked up and saw the smile on Alfred's face, he knew that his boyfriend was thinking the same thing.

When the Jones finished dinner, the mood was much lighter. Mr. Jones even asked, with innocent curiosity, where they would get blood for their dinner, if there was a blood fast-food or something. His question made Alfred laugh and Arthur roll his eyes, smiling a bit. They explained that they would be getting animal blood bags provided by a vampire market.

“You always liked rare meat, Alfie,” Mrs. Jones noted, seeming to be a little more comfortable seeing some similarity between her son's traits as a human and as a vampire.

They said goodbye respectfully and Alfred even hugged his parents before leaving, leaving the grudges of the discussion behind, and taking only the compromise that had been reached by them.

When they got into the car, Alfred let out a breath that was so long it seemed to use all the air out of his lungs.

“Sorry about… everything that happened,” he said to Arthur, a little more seriously, putting a hand on his face. “I thought maybe they might be weird about the idea of me becoming a vampire, but I didn't think things would get that bad. I mean, they were fine with the idea of me being gay.”

“Being gay and being a vampire are very different things, I don't know if you know that,” Arthur commented with some irony, trying to be playful about the situation in his own way. He didn't want his boyfriend to feel bad about what had happened.

Alfred laughed at that, losing a good deal of the tension he was carrying on his shoulders.

“True, if I told mom that I had become a vegan, I think she would freak out as well,” Alfred smiled at him, turning on the car ignition.

“I guess so.” Arthur smiled discreetly in return, looking back at the car window, watching the brightness of the streetlights, the similar houses perfectly aligned on the neighborhood, that world that wasn’t his. A world that Alfred had originally belonged to. He started to think about how strange it must have been for Alfred to enter his world as well and how he never made Arthur feel bad or uncomfortable about it. “Alfred?”

“Yes?” Alfred started driving.

“Thanks for being by my side.”

“Always, darling,” Alfred replied sweetly, placing a hand briefly on one of his shoulders. “This is just the beginning of the centuries we will spend together.”

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot to explicitly mention that in this world, vampires are part of the society, although they are considered outcasts. That's my usual take on monsters. Gotta love casually inserting monsters in human societies. =)


End file.
